I was originally going to post this as a response, But I think this deserves its own post. People often ask what the End Game is, and I feel that this is the definitive answer.

THE ENDGAME:

The streets were cold and dark. Ashen rain from the sky. The year was 2044. The Gyno-cracy was in full effect. Years of inefficient policies, bogus sexual harassment claims and the demonization of men: the productive portion of the population had lead to poverty and despair. You must work harder to ensure victory over the patriarchy: the shittily wired loud speaker blurted. Meek castrated men roamed the crumbling streets, nodding in agreement with the loudspeaker. The castration-station drove by always on the look out for those who wouldn't submit.

"Testosterone is the root of all evil, give up your testicles and we will live in a feminist paradise" A speaker from the castration-station blurted. The Inquisitors were on the lookout for the resistance. It was rumored that there was a man who could reverse the effects of castration and the Gynocracy wanted him dead.

The Castration Station opened its doors and 12 Female Inquisitors left the vehicle. The physical standards were pretty relaxed to be an Inquisitor. A 14 minute mile and 2 minutes of looking at a pullup bar was all it took to qualify. 'Reports indicate that this building is the last refuge of the resistance,' The Grand Inquisitor said. After consulting her squad about how they felt about going into the building for thirty minutes, the Inquisition finally decided to bust down the door.

"Give up your testicles and no one gets hurt" the Grand Inquisitor yelled into the dark building. "We have you surrounded," She continued yelling. "Give up and you have nothing to fear", she said one last time as doubt crept into her voice.

Year of anabolic abuse have left the man incapable of fear. The only emotion he could feel was smug cockiness. "I have foreseen this day,' the man said. "I will defeat you with the Red Pill truth: women are inferior."

An Inquisitor shined a spot light on the man. He was tall Slavic and lean 280. The man was eating a meat party platter, not realy giving a fuck that there were guns pointed at him.

"You cant rape us GayLubeOil, we packed our vaginas with sand", yelled of the Inquisitors. "This is your last chance to give up, before we open fire."

"Russians don't surrender' the Man said as he calmly finished his last piece of ham. "Then open fire," the Grand Inquisitor yelled.

Half the rifles jammed for lack of maintenance. The other half didn't fire because they were on safety. None of the Inquisitors actually practiced operating their rifles, because they were always confident in their proficiency. One of the Inquisitors dropped the spotlight because it was heavy. The room grew dark.

In the darkness the Grand Inquisitor felt a large presence beside her. She could feel his heavy breathing and his Siberian warmth.

A loud slap cut through the air and the Grand Inquisitors helmet fell to the ground. She soon followed, falling to the ground in tears.

Are You done? Asked the man in his deep anadrol voice "Are you fucking done?." "Yes" said the Grand Inquisitor.

Good then bring me a meat party platter.